


ill-fated

by frustrataed



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Season 4 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 04:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29960871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frustrataed/pseuds/frustrataed
Summary: You and Armin were never meant to be. But that's only for you to know.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Original Female Character(s), Armin Arlert/Reader, Armin Arlert/You
Kudos: 23





	ill-fated

Sometimes Armin wishes he were dead. He's not sure whether there's anything waiting for him once his eyes close for good, but he hopes that even if it's completely empty or lonely on the other side, it cannot be worse than what he's already done, that what he's seen — not just now, but ever since he was a child. If his punishment awaits him after death, then so be it, he'll gladly embrace it; it's a thousand times better than having to deal with the thick of cloud guilt hovering over his conscience.

Sometimes Armin wishes he weren't the chosen one, the one his friends fought to save. Sometimes he thinks of his deceased commander, and the weight of responsibility that's been loaded on his shoulders, the weight just too heavy to bear. Reoccurring nightmares keep his head occupied at night, but he's more than used to it by now.

Armin wonders, he wonders if Erwin, or Bertolt, perhaps, would make the same decisions. They're completely different people, he would be a fool to believe otherwise, but he desperately needs some kind of condolence, empathy — for nobody understands him right now, nobody can feel the same way he does when his heart is violently being dragged down by an unknown force, a heart that's always been soft but was pressured to harden for the sake of the actions of a confused man who Armin still manages to call a friend.

He can't get the haunting images out of his head — the screams, the blood…Hell, he's done all of this, and for what? What's their purpose anymore, what's their plan? He fails to understand, though he wants to more than anything. Armin wants Eren to talk to him like always, but he's making a fool of himself even by letting such a thought enter his mind. Eren has taken his own path now, a path Armin cannot follow because he simply doesn't _know. Why did Sasha have to die, Eren? Why did all of these innocent people have to die, Eren? What the hell does freedom even mean in your head, Eren?_

He'll ask, of course, when he visits him in his cell later. He's quite hesitant, but if he wants to share a piece of his mind with him and vice versa, he has to suppress his growing anger and go.

Armin is home now, in the pretentious safety of his room, the walls of which are silently judging him. His head falls back against the wooden door, as he brings his knees closer to his upper body. He doesn't want to sleep right now, despite the irritating protests of his eyes. He has to think of something _himself,_ that's been his sole purpose of existence ever since he was given a second chance.

He stays like this for a while, dried tears and muffled sentences to help ease the sharp pain that pierces through his forehead. He slightly jumps when he hears a knock on the door, but he decides to ignore it. Besides, he's supposed to be sleeping at this hour. _Supposed._ Nobody is going to actually get even the slightest of rest after what's happened _._

"Armin…"

It doesn't take him more than a second to recognize your whispers. Even though he's more than acquainted with the nature of your intentions, he doesn't want you to stuff your already clouded mind with his own guilt and worries. You've always been here for him, but he realizes that he's grown too dependent on you and your words. If something goes wrong and you leave his side, he'll never be able to recover from your loss, feeling like someone had ripped out one of his lungs, or worse, his _heart_.

"Are you sleeping?"

Silence.

"I know you more than you think, Arlert. Can I talk to you, please?"

He _does_ know. And he _hates_ it. He hates how easy it is for you to shatter him if you wanted. You've grown so close these past few years, he's learned to share everything with you. He's never found so much solace in his life before, and that's why he's secretly named you his comfort place, a place somewhere between your warm embraces and encouraging smiles, a place he secretly calls his own.

He gives up after a few more knocks, standing up to make way for you to push the door open. He just can't help but lose. Every time he tries to build some kind of defense, it ends up collapsing in a matter of seconds. Is he in love? Or does he just want to protect you himself, defining his own weaknesses? Do you feel the same in the slightest? He has no answer to any of these questions.

However, when you finally walk into the dark room, immediately wrapping your arms around his exhausted form, he _feels_ it. Your overflowing love for him that you've never expressed directly — yet it's there, strong and steady. You don't owe anything to him so as to act this way. If anything, you're one of the volunteers, though you don't really know where you stand anymore. You brought knowledge and hope to Paradis, and most importantly, in your own way, you managed to understand him, share the weight of it all with him.

"You seriously got me worried for a second. I was looking for you during dinner but you didn't-"

He pulls back angrily now, unable to control his emotions. _Hell,_ he needs a break. 

"What's wrong with you? Why would I want to eat fucking dinner, y/n? I feel like throwing up!"

"I-I didn’t mean it like that, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Armin. I didn't know Sasha very well but I'm sure-"

"She was my _friend_. And she's gone. She's gone forever, oh God she's-" _Damn it Eren, what have you done?_

You try to reach for his hand but he pulls away, taking a step back.

"Can you please leave? I really don't feel like talking right now." And he means it. His mind is a mess, he feels vulnerable, unstable, he can’t think for himself right now. It’s all just a deadly turmoil of annoyance, bitterness, and a pile of unanswered questions

You ignore his request, unaware that you're pushing him to his limit. 

"You don't have to go through all of this alone, you know? I want to be here for you-"

"But I don't! I don't want you here, I don't need neither your pity nor your stupid condolences, so just save it and get out!"

"Armin-" You give it one last chance, in hopes the man you know comes back. But he doesn't. He looks empty, broken, distant. You understand, when your parents were executed for treason in Marley, you had the same blank stare, the same trembling lips, the same tears now running down Armin's face. Afraid of being next, you used the remaining strength in your body to adapt, become idly invisible, all until you got the chance to strike. You’re forever grateful for Yelena, but that’s a story for another time.

"Get out, please." You finally do as told without another protest.

After that, you decide to give Armin space. You think that maybe you've been pushing him into talking to you. Maybe he's just too nice to admit that you've been a bother, even from the very start. The possibility of being another reason why his smile has disappeared only makes it impossible for you to get rid of all this guilt. You never mean to be a burden to anyone, let alone to a person that you cherish deeply.

You believe otherwise, but your absence doesn't go unnoticed. When you left his room that night, Armin thought that nothing would change in the morning, as you know him enough to tell that he didn't mean the things he said. But it's been four whole days and he hasn't run into you even once. It's like you've disappeared completely, and just the thought of you leaving for good scares him. The last time he saw you was during Sasha's funeral. You had your arm wrapped around Nicollo's as he quietly cried on your shoulder. You never met his intense gaze after the ceremony, walking away before he had the chance to stop you in order to apologize.

He wants to be the one to knock on the door of your room this time. 

It takes him a while to regain, mental and whatnot, and when he does, he feels hopeful. He doesn't wish to create distance between you, you're one of the few people he can really depend on, despite the fact that the whole volunteer situation is anything but suspicious, even after almost 5 years. He doesn’t want to lose you, he _really_ doesn’t.

When a few minutes pass and you still don't reply, he takes a deep breath, pushes down the door handle and steps inside, only for his breath to get stuck in his throat.

The dimly lit room is empty.

_Have you really left?_


End file.
